The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 83

"Ah! the rascals! To the devil with signoras, fine eyes and reverences!

Why did we leave our hotel?"

"It was my fault, Bertrand, I realize it. It is my folly again that has caused this misfortune. But what's the use of talking? the harm is done."

"We must enter a complaint, monsieur; we must obtain justice."

"Enter a complaint, my friend, in a country where we are strangers, and when we have nothing with which to pay for obtaining justice, which is very dear everywhere?"

"In that case, monsieur, we must allow ourselves to be robbed and say nothing, must we?"

"That is the wisest course in this case, Bertrand."

"It's very amusing!"

"We must make haste, too, to leave this house, which was undoubtedly let to those sharpers, and of which we have smashed the door; for we may be asked by what right we are here, and be punished for breaking in as we did."

"That would be the last straw! Ah! my poor old Schtrack, it would have been much better to stay with you!"

"Courage, Bertrand, let us rise superior to disaster. We have nothing left--very good! that compels me to work. We will travel on foot; in that way one doesn't run the risk of making evil acquaintances as one does in a diligence. And then our baggage is lighter than ever, and each of us can say with the Greek philosopher: _'Omnia mec.u.m porto.'_"

"That must mean that he hadn't a sou, doesn't it, lieutenant?"

"Pretty nearly that, Bertrand."

"In that case we are getting to be mighty philosophical!"

"Let's leave Turin and go elsewhere in search of prudence."

"Ah! where shall we stop, monsieur?"

XXV

WHICH COVERS A PERIOD OF THREE YEARS

Let us leave Auguste and Bertrand to pursue their travels, the one promising never again to allow himself to be led astray by the sly glances of the first pretty face he may meet; the other, swearing because his advice was not heeded, and reviling the s.e.x which led his master into so many sc.r.a.pes. You must forgive Bertrand, ladies, and pardon his ill humor; he really had some reason to distrust beauty. But if he had been twenty years younger, and some pretty creature had undertaken to make a conquest of him, who can say that, like his master, he would not have succ.u.mbed? Let us return to the village, to the little milkmaid, from whom Auguste's follies have kept us away too long; and may the picture of innocence and of true love give our eyes a little rest after that of the pa.s.sions and intrigues of cities, and the hypocrisy and selfishness of society. It is like turning to a lovely landscape of Regnier after looking at one of Gudin's tempests; but, if the representation of the conflict causes us keen emotions, the sight of a pure sky and fields bright with blossoms brings sweet repose to our souls and often arouses pleasanter sensations within us.

Denise took back to her aunt the three thousand francs that she had intended to force upon Auguste; she heaved a profound sigh as she handed her the bag of money.

"Wouldn't he take it?" asked Mere Fourcy.

"Alas! it was too late, aunt! he had gone away! He's gone round the world! and G.o.d only knows when he will come back!"

"It ain't our fault, child; we got the money together just as quick as we possibly could; for, you see, three thousand francs ain't like a cheese. If he's gone travelling, it must be that he wasn't in need of money; at any rate we've nothing to blame ourselves for, and when he comes to see us again, he'll see what a pretty cottage we've had built for Coco."

Denise felt confident that Virginie would keep her promise, that she would succeed in finding out where Auguste had gone, and that she would send her news of him; that hope was the sole joy of her life. Hope always counts for much in the sum total of happiness that we mortals enjoy on earth; how many people have never known any other happiness than that which it gives!

Virginie had said to Denise, to console her:

"You will see Auguste again, and when he knows how dearly you love him, I am sure that he will care for you."

Those words were engraved on the girl's heart, and she said to herself every day:

"That lady will tell him that I love him, and when he comes here again I shall blush to meet him! I shan't dare to look him in the face! Perhaps he won't like it, but it's his own fault; why did he tell me that he loved me? Ought a man to say such things if he doesn't mean them? I made believe to laugh when I heard him, but in the bottom of my heart I realized how happy it made me! Of course he only meant to joke with me; he talked to me as he does to all the women he thinks pretty. He doesn't know what misery he has caused me!"

On the site of the hovel occupied by the Calleux family, a pretty cottage had been built, consisting of a ground floor and attics only.

Behind it was a garden of considerable size, surrounded by a fence. The cottage was constructed with the three thousand francs left by Dalville; it belonged to Coco, although he was still too young to live there. But Denise took pleasure in beautifying the little place for which the child was indebted to his benefactor; and there she pa.s.sed a large part of every day, after performing her morning tasks, dreaming of him whose return she never ceased to expect. There, alone with the child, she talked to him about Auguste, taught him to love him, to remember that he owed everything to him, and never to enter the cottage without giving a thought to grat.i.tude.

The garden was carefully tended. Denise planted flowers there. She remembered what she had seen in the lovely bourgeois gardens that she had visited, and she determined that the garden of the cottage should be laid out on the same plan. She desired that Auguste should be agreeably surprised when he visited the cottage, and should compliment her on her taste.

"He will see these shrubs," she thought, "these beds of verdure; and he will be surprised that peasants should have done it all as well as people from Paris."

But in another moment the girl would sigh and say to herself sadly:

"If he has gone to the end of the world, it will be a long time before he comes to see my garden."

The winter was succeeded by the lovely days of spring, and Denise heard nothing from Virginie.

"She hasn't found out anything about him," thought the girl; "otherwise she would have come to tell me about it."

The hope of hearing from Auguste induced Denise to make another trip to Paris. She easily obtained her aunt's permission, and one morning she appeared at Auguste's former abode.

As usual, Schtrack was smoking on a bench in front of his lodge. He recognized the girl, and although it was nearly four months since she had fainted in his arms, he called out when he saw her:

"Wasn't all the money in the bag?"

"What, monsieur? what bag? Has Monsieur Auguste come back?" inquired Denise, gazing anxiously at the old German.

"Oh, no! no! The young man is still travelling with Pertrand. But I thought you haf come about the bag of money that fell in the yard, and that you didn't find it all. Sacretie! you see, Schtrack don't joke about questions of honor."

"Oh, monsieur! of course I didn't come about that!--Haven't you heard from him, monsieur?"

"From who, my child?"

"From Monsieur Auguste."

"How in the devil do you suppose I could hear from him when he's gone round the world?"

"And that lady--have you seen her?"

"A lady?"

"The one who was here with me the last time I came, and who was kind enough to help me."

"Oh ja! the demon! the hussy! the little grenadier!"